Annual Expenditures
by Oparu
Summary: Fluffy sickfic. Mal and Regina work on town budgets while Regina's not feeling well, then Henry and Mal team up and look after Regina together. Dragon Queen, Dragon Believer Queen family
1. Chapter 1

Regina walks over to the thermostat on the wall for the third time in the last two hours and Mal tilts her head, watching her fuss with the little thing on the wall.

"Is it malfunctioning?"

"No." Regina touches her forehead, frustration making her stiff. She shakes her head. "It seems to be fine."

It's a frigid winter day outside but perfectly warm and comfortable in Regina's office, at least, Mal's comfortable, but she's always warm and her waistcoat is much more comfortable than Regina's dress.

"Here." Lifting her blazer from the chair, Mal walks to her, slipping it over her shoulders. "Put this on."

Regina turns, meeting her eyes. "I'm fine."

"You're cold."

"The thermostat says it's fine." She sighs again, touches her throat. That's the problem. Her throat bothered her yesterday.

Mal touches her cheek, and Regina's warm, too warm. Regina's sore throat comes with a fever today. They have so much to do, Regina will never let her call it a day this early. "I'll get you more tea. Wear my jacket. It's warm."

Regina rolls her eyes. "I'm fine."

"I believe you said you were cold."

That look passes Regina's face again. The soft, exhausted look that means this is important, and they have to continue because putting the town above everything is how Regina atones for them being here, for the years they repeated over and over. Paperwork is a funny kind of redemption, but it's what Regina needs, so Mal will give it to her.

She touches Regina's cheek again, then kisses her, lips following her fingers against Regina's fevered skin. "It'll get worse before it gets better," she whispers. Regina knows this, and Mal can feel her fever building, like fire catching.

Regina rests her forehead against Mal's cheek, letting herself have a moment of weakness. "Then we'd better finish today."

She cuddles into Mal's jacket, sitting back down on the sofa by all the papers. Mal watches her and smiles, remembering a little queen wrapped in blankets next to a fire, a lifetime ago. She was stubborn then too.

Water boils with a flick of her fingers, and she pours it from the little electric kettle over a tea bag. She adds honey, taking it out of the cabinet where it sits next to the hot chocolate for Henry. When she returns, she sets it on the table in front of Regina and touches her shoulder.

"We stop at dinner time."

Regina takes a sip, wincing a little. Her throat hurts. "We should finish."

"We will, but we stop at dinner time."

Regina leans her head on Maleficent's shoulder, just for a moment. Her eyes close, and the papers are forgotten, just for a moment.

Mal touches her back, between her shoulder blades, resting her hand there on the wool of her own jacket. "We're nearly finished."

Regina sighs, dragging herself back up. She sips her tea and shakes her head. "We're not."

"I'm glad you can admit it, dear."

Leaning forward, Regina drops her head into her hands. "Under the curse it was the same year, over and over, all these forms were the same, none of them changed unless I changed something. Now-"

Mal rubs slow circles on her shoulders. "Now we have to figure out how to list cleaning up a crashed airship as a town expenditure."

"Did you?"

"I called it a small craft accident. An unregistered hobbyist."

Regina's smile has a genuine warmth and amusement. "That's one way to do it."

Setting that form in the pile for Regina to sign, Mal nods. "One thing at a time, dear. It's the only way to finish something truly tedious."


	2. Chapter 2

They did make it home for dinner time. Regina even kept Mal's jacket, remaining wrapped up in wool with her scarf and her own coat on top. When they returned to Regina's house, Mal followed her in, inviting herself for dinner.

"Go upstairs and change, put on something comfortable. I'll talk to Henry and get dinner."

Regina sighs, pressing her fingers into the center of her forehead. "You can't cook."

"In Storybrooke, that doesn't seem to be a necessity. One can arrange to have food appear at one's leisure."

"You don't have too-"

Mal touches her chin, smiling. "Allow me to help you, and Henry. Lily's at work tonight, it'll save me from having to eat alone."

Regina meets her eyes, her own smile wavering. They're growing too close again to just be friends. "You never have to eat alone if you don't want-" She shivers, failing to finish her thought.

Mal hushes her with a kiss on her forehead that might linger longer than it should. "Go change, get a sweater. I'll be here."

Regina smiles then, defeated, and heads upstairs while Mal finds Henry in the living room.

He sets down his math book, seemingly relieved by the distraction. "Hi. You staying for dinner?"

She nods to him, eyeing the paper covered with symbols in front of him. Algebra, not quite magic, but nearly as complex. "What would you like for dinner?"

"Mom's not cooking?" He meets her eyes, putting his pencil on top of the book. He's an intelligent young man, he reads it in her in a moment. "She's sick, isn't she?"

"A little."

"Did she ask you to stay?"

Mal perches on the edge of the sofa, tilting her head as she toyed with her cufflink. "She wouldn't."

"So you invited yourself to dinner."

"Sometimes that's the best way to help."

He stares right back, unafraid, sizing her up. "So what's for dinner then?"

"Whatever you desire from Granny's."

"They don't deliver."

Mal smirks, leaving the sofa and heading for the kitchen. "I don't need delivery. Tell me what you decide and you shall have it."

He nods, picking up his pencil so he can finish his homework. "Grilled cheese and fries, with tomato."

Adding tomato seems like a way to placate his mother, and as Mal spends more time with Lily, she understands that children make these choices out of love. She orders the soup for Regna, in hopes that she'll be able to get that down. Lily promises it'll be fifteen minutes or so, they're not busy. She'll text.

Which leaves Mal to head upstairs and discover why Regina hasn't returned from changing clothes. The bedroom door is closed, and Mal knocks once, gently, before she lets herself in. Regina sits on the edge of the pristinely made bed, head in her hands. She has changed, now she's dressed in pyjamas and thick blue sweater, but she doesn't look up. Crouching down in front of her, Mal rests her hands over Regina's and for once, her hands are cooler than Regina's skin.

"You can take painkillers with dinner. We might be able to bring your fever down a little."

"I'm not hungry."

"I know. Just eat a little."

Regina opens her eyes, taking a long moment to force them to focus on Mal's face. "I'm dizzy."

"That's the fever."

"It wasn't-"

"Things like this sneak up on you, especially when you insist on pretending you're absolutely fine."

Regina shuts her eyes again, leaning into Mal's hands with a whimper. "Henry?"

Mal rubs her thumbs over Regina's forehead, massaging along Regina's hairline. Pain vibrates through Regina's skull in a way Mal can almost feel. If they hadn't stopped when Mal decide they were done, she might have had to carry Regina home. "Is doing his homework, and asked for tomato on his sandwich." Regina smiles, relaxing a little as Mal rubs the back of her neck. "He's fine, dear."

"Did you?"

"I ordered myself dinner."

"Lily?"

Mal kisses her forehead. How many more excuses Regina can dredge up to resist being looked after? "Lily's working, remember?"

"Yes, you-" Regina breaks off when Mal hits a sore spot with her fingers, whimpering again

"Shhh."

"You told me."

"I imagine it's hard to listen when your head's pounding."

"It's fine-"

Mal cuts her off, shaking her head. She lowers her voice until it's a reasonable imitation of Regina's. "Really quite painful, Mal, but I don't want to admit it."

She earns a sigh instead of a smile with that impression, but Regina leans forward into her hands, letting herself be comforted. "Henry is doing his homework, then he'll eat with us. Lily has to close tonight so she won't be home until long after midnight. If you still don't feel well tomorrow, we can work from home. Most of the budgets just require your approval anyway, and you trust me."

Regina's eyes flutter open. "I trust you?"

"With your town budgets, absolutely. I'm better at tax law then you are."

"And smug."

"Of course." Mal strokes her temple, wishing she could do more to calm the pain pulsing within Regina's skull. Making Regina smile, no matter how small, is a start. "I'm better at tax law than the mayor of Storybrooke."

Mal's phone chirps before Regina can tease her more. "Come on dear, we'll sit at the table with Henry and pretend you're not ill."

Helping Regina to her feet, Mal starts towards the door, an arm securely around Regina's back, just in case. Regina stops them in the hallway. Is she dizzier than Mal thought? Should they stop?

"I trust you," Regina insists, resting her hand on Maleficent's chest. She's somehow so small and vulnerable that Mal wants to wrap wings around her to keep her safe and warm.

"I know."

"I mean, I trust you with more than budgets." For a moment, Regina's dark eyes are clear, and she's earnest, determined, almost guilty because Mal doesn't know how deep this goes.

Mal only smiles, and kisses her forehead. "I know that too, dear."

They meet Henry in the dining room, and a wave of Maleficent's hand brings food from Granny's neatly packed in little boxes, waiting for them. Henry grabs plates and bowls from the kitchen, and they lay everything out before Regina has a chance to protest that she can help, that they don't need to serve her.

Mal sets chicken and barley soup in front of her. "You don't have to eat all of it, but try."

Henry attacks his grilled cheese with the kind of hunger only found in teenagers and young dragons. Mal watches him while she begins to eat her own dinner. Shepherd's pie was the evening's special, and it's softer, less spicy than she'd normally choose, but it's delicious.

"Here, try it." She offers her fork to Henry and he passes her a corner of his grilled cheese. Regina watches them over the soup growing cold in front of her. She lifts her spoon and takes a bite, but she needs her other hand to keep her head up, and Mal takes pity on her.

"I'll make you some tea and clean up. Go to bed."

"I-" Regina stops because Henry's staring at her.

"Go to bed, Mom. I can put things in the dishwasher."

"But your homework."

"I'm done, Mom." He reaches over and pats her hand. "Don't worry."

Mal stands, taking Regina's half-finished soup. "What is it you say? We have this under control, I promise."

Their eyes meet, and Henry heads into the kitchen, leaving them to stare at each other.

"You don't have to, I'm fine."

"Regina, dear, perhaps you need to stop seeing this as an obligation. I wish you to be well, because I care for you. That is no imposition to me, now, go to bed."


	3. Chapter 3

_Mentions of past child neglect/abuse, Cora and Regina_

She's so cold. Regina grabs a blanket and wraps it around her shoulders. She'll just lie down for a moment, listening.

She doesn't remember falling asleep, but blackness takes her. Mal and Henry's voices are closer now, just outside the doorway.

"I'm going to stay, to look after your mom. I hope that's all right."

"The guest room's all set up if-" Henry stops. "You know, if you don't, that's okay too. I know you and mom, you used to date, right?"

"Your mother is far too sick for me to do anything, don't worry." Mal's almost laughing. That's inappropriate but she often is. Mal forgets that fourteen is much younger here than it was in the other world.

Regina starts to sit up but her head spins. She gasps, trying to catch her breath. Her head pounds and she swallows, which is worse because her throat burns. The pills Mal made her take with dinner must have worn off.

"I didn't mean that." Regina can picture him, rolling his eyes, hands in his pockets.

"Of course not," Mal's voice softens. "I just want her to be all right. She's quite terrible at looking after herself."

"I know."

Regina starts to protest, but her voice doesn't work. They can't hear her in the hallway.

"So, sleep well, and I'll see you for breakfast."

"Okay, goodnight, Maleficent."

"You can call me Mal, or Mistress of All Evil, if you prefer."

He chuckles and she can almost see them, smiling at each other, getting along. This is a thing she wants, the two of them talking and laughing. She hasn't admitted it, hasn't said anything, but listening to them sounds like home. That quiet she had for a moment.

"Goodnight, Mal."

"Goodnight, Henry."

His door opens and closes, then he's in the bathroom, running water and brushing his teeth. She should do the same.

The hallway goes dark and she's here, standing in front of the bed. Magic whispers and there's a soft flash of grey light as Mal changes her clothes with magic.

Regina forces her eyes open, trying to find her, then Mal's hand brushes across her forehead, somehow cool.

"You're on the wrong side of the blankets, dear."

Trying to smile, she fails, leaning into the hand on her head because the slight change in temperature helps the throbbed in her head.

Mal's other hand cups her face, and magic rushes around her, warm, like being near the fire in Mal's old castle.

"That's better." Mal kisses her forehead, her lips warm against Regina's heated skin. "Stay here." She disappears before Regina can protest that she's not going to move. She must have faded out for a moment because now Mal's next to her, one hand on her shoulder.

"Are you awake enough to drink something? Can you sit up?"

"No." Her voice cracks, creaking in her throat like old wood and Mal chuckles.  
"I'll help you."

"No..."

Mal drags her up, holds her against her chest like Regina's a sick child. "Drink this, swallow two pills and I'll let you sleep until tomorrow."

"I'm fine."

"Drink." Mal holds up the cup. It smells like sweet herbs, elderflower and licorice. Mal's hands are steady, careful, gentle like her father's. As much as she hates the weakness, and the trembling fear that she's disappointed everyone, especially Henry, Mal is safe and warm against her.

Not angry. Some of the tea spills, her hands and clumsy and in a flash of fever dream she remembers her mother.

Impatient.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"I'm not her." Mal strokes her cheek, magics up a towel and pats her neck dry. "She's gone."

Being sick was never tolerated. Good girls were careful and healthy and didn't cry. Good girls didn't need to be looked after.

For a moment, she remembers Snow perched on her bed, staring at her with wide, terrified eyes. She wasn't Snow's mother, loathed the girl, but Snow cared for her.

Then Mal did.

The pills stick like stones in her throat, Mal whispers that she should drink, try again to swallow but they catch, burning because she can't swallow. She can't breathe. For an agonizing moment, her chest spasms, twisting her stomach. She won't vomit. Regina swallows.

Mal kisses her forehead and whispers of nothing while she finishes her tea. Mercifully, then she sleeps, curled into Mal's chest.


	4. Chapter 4

Henry reads it all on his phone over his cereal. He's been for a strep test before. He was younger, a lot younger, but he remembers the swab thing and taking the giant antibiotics for days and Mom being Mom and staying home from work until she was sure he was okay. The internet says the test will take fifteen minutes, but Mal could bring Mom home while they waited. She wouldn't have to stay.

Strep fits with her symptoms, fever, sore throat, and exhaustion. He doesn't know if she was nauseated, or if her body hurt but Mal will. Mom doesn't like to tell him when she's sick. Even when he knew, when she'd catch his colds and they'd spend the day together on the sofa. She wouldn't lie, just wouldn't be very honest. She was a 'little sick' when she had something in her lungs and she stayed home for a whole week. He still had to go to school but they got lots of delivery that week.

If Mal stays another couple days, they'll probably get more delivery. He can cook a little, and Emma would help. Mom might stress out more if Emma's in her kitchen, but maybe she'd let Mal cook? Can she cook? He's never asked. Maybe she just uses magic and-

Swollen lymph nodes in the neck. That's easy to check. Mom probably won't let him get that close, but Mal slept in her room. Mom will let her.

He's almost done with his cereal when he wonders why they aren't down yet. The teakettle's warm on the stove, so someone was here. Probably Mal, because Mom would have cooked something if she was up to it. When he sets his bowl in the sink, he finds the measuring cup, which smells of herbs. Mal wouldn't give her cough syrup. He wonders if she even knows about it. That wouldn't help strep anyway.

"Licorice root, slippery elm, marshmallow and honey, if you're wondering. They're all analgesics, nothing strong."

He startles, turning to Mal. Lifting the cup, he sniffs it. It is liquorice and something bitter, and honey.

"Does that help?"

"Combined with that you have here, your painkillers, it helps a little." She reaches for her his shoulder. "There are spots on the back of her throat. White ones. Do you know what illness that is?"

"I think it's strep." He sets down the cup, nodding. "I've been reading about it on my phone. It's a bacterial infection, so if it's that, she'll need antibiotics, but if you take her to the doctor, they can give them to you. Or I can come."

"You have school." She gives him such a mom look that he grins.

"You can take her. The internet says you should feel her neck, here." Henry runs his hands over Mal's neck feeling her not-sick-at-all glands. 'It'll be swollen. Sore. Then you know to take her to the doctor." He pauses, sheepish because he just grabbed her and she's a dragon. 'Sorry.'

Mal tilts her head and stares at him, and he shouldn't think of the lizard at school but he does. "Why are you apologizing?"

"I grabbed you…' He looks at his hands. 'We don't–"

"I care for your mother, dear. I believe that allows you a certain amount of leeway." She starts making more tea for Mom, mixing herbs. "I promise to be gentle when I grab your mother's neck if you call and make the appointment. It doesn't matter what time, but I'd rather get her in sooner than later."

"I'll call. She doesn't like Whale, but she likes Nurse Ratched, and Dr. Park."

"Frankenstein was cruel to her, many years ago." Mal stirs hot water into her herbs and smiles at him. "We've told each other many stories, your mother and I."

"Okay." He picks up his phone and dials, nervous at first until he's not. He just has to make an appointment and he knows the receptionist, his son is a grade below Henry in school. They've talked. He knows Steve.

He makes it through, Steve even says Mal can poof in, as long as she isn't dragon size when she does it, they'll be fine. He even laughs.

It'll be okay. Henry writes down the appointment and gives the hospital Mal's number so they can text her. He heads upstairs to pass that on. Mom's bedroom door is open, and he can just see them through it, Mal sitting on the bed and Mom with her head in Mal's lap. Mal runs her hand through Mom's hair, her other hand on Mom's forehead.

Mom's eyes are closed. She could be asleep, but she smiles a little when Mal says something. Mal hasn't seen him yet and he stands there, watching and listening because he hasn't seen Mom smile like that since Robin, even though she's exhausted and miserable, there's something.

"Everything hurts." Mom never uses that tone.

"I know." Mal leans down and kisses her forehead. "Your fancy modern medicine here will fix it."

"It's not magic." Mom rolls, looking up at Mal. "Even if it's something they can give me antibiotics for-" she swallows and winces- "I'll still be sick, for days and we have-"

"The annual budget to finish." Mal smiles at her, all warm and gentle. "And we'll finish."

"Mal-" Mom whines, actually whines, like he did when he wanted something when he was five.

Henry's face burns hot, because maybe this he shouldn't be watching, maybe he should cough or knock or look away.

"We'll finish, even if I read everything to you and hold things up so you can sign."

"I'm not that sick." Mom smiles again, soft and safe.

"You don't have to deathly ill for me to stay, dear." Mal smiles at her, all gentle, caring, and Mom reaches up to touch her face, as if to make sure she's there and real.

Mom wants this, needs it. She's happy with him, with his grandparents, with Emma, because they're family, but she needs this too Someone who makes her smile like that. Someone who she can use the whiny voice with because he's never heard her like that.

He gives them a moment, then knocks. "Hi."

"Hello, Henry." Mal's smile is all warm. What would it be like if she stayed? If Mom's going to be sick for a few days, she's not going to leave. Does she like him? Does he like her?

"Henry." Mom starts to sit up, but that hurts. She hurts everywhere.

"No, don't sit up." He crouches down next to the bed. "I made you a doctor's appointment at nine-thirty. Mal's going to take you and I'm going to go to school. I think Mal might stay for a few days, just to help make sure you're okay."

Mal tilts her head, studying him when they make eye contact. She smiles far more gently than a dragon ought to be able to do.

"I'm fine-"

"I know, but going to the doctor will make sure you're really fine, and Mal can't catch strep."

"I don't..."

Mal touches Mom's neck, and nods at Henry. He thought so.

He reaches out and touches Mom's shoulder, squeezing her arm. Through her thin shirt, she's so hot, even this morning. "I won't hug you because I don't want to get sick. I'll see you after school. I hope you feel better."

Mom's face goes soft and she pats his hand with burning fingers. "Thank you, Henry. I love you."

He stands, grinning. "I love you too."

Mm sits up anyway, trying to keep her smile, but his stomach aches watching her falter until Mal catches her shoulders, holding her up. "Mal will look after me."

Putting his hands in his pockets, Henry nods. "I know she will. You let her." He smiles again, so Mom knows that's a good thing. "Doctor Park, nine-thirty."

"I'm very punctual, Henry. Don't worry."

He turns to go, and Mal murmurs something to Mom, all gentle. They'll be fine. Mom listens to her. They have history. Still. "Text me? I can check it between classes."

"Of course."

Then he has to go. He heads downstairs.


	5. Chapter 5

"Hold onto me."

Regina chuckles, soft and dry. She leans in, head against Mal's chest. She can teleport on her own, has more than enough magic, but when she was younger they traveled like this, Mal's arms around her. It's unnecessary, of course.

Regina straightens at the doctor's office, draws on that wellspring of strength. She's fine. Just a little dizzy, a little feverish, a little sore, even in front of the physician whose eyes go wide when Regina opens her mouth.

"Definitely strep."

Dr. Park explains that antibiotics were discovered less than a century ago in this world, and they're a kind of magic. Regina wavers then, losing her facade because it's confirmed now. She is ill enough to be out of the office, to stay home.

For two days, at least. Mal has that written down and she smirks over it like a talisman.

Regina drops her head to Mal's shoulder, leaning on her for balance. She vibrates misery, and only stands with effort. Mal could scoop her up in her arms, but she won't.

"Can you catch human diseases?"

Mal shakes her head. "Not this one, it seems."

"How fortunate. It can be very contagious."

"Henry's stayed back," Regina insists, and Mal wraps her arm tighter around Regina's back. She wore flat shoes and she's so small next to Mal that she should carry her home.

Regina should just let her.

Dr. Park hands Mal two more shiny flat scrolls of information. Regina hasn't had antibiotics in this world before, she might be allergic. There are side effects and signs to watch for.

Mal listens while Regina snuggles closer, seeking the warmth of her body. She should be home, wrapped in blankets before the fire.

They're released. Dr. Park starts to walk them out and Mal smiles. She obviously hasn't seen teleporting before. In a flash of smoke, they're gone.

Inside Regina's house, hidden from the world, Mal lifts her up, cradling her to her chest even as Regina protests that it's a very short walk to the sofa.

She's perfectly capable, thank you.

"I wanted to." Mal sets her down on the sofa. Wrapping a blanket around her shoulders she cups Regina's cheek. "I want to keep you safe."

"I am safe with you." Regina's dark eyes shine fever bright.

This is not the time to have this conversation, Mal should never have begun. Her heart thuds, too big and too heavy. Regina needs her medicine, and sleep. She doesn't need a lovesick dragon.

"I'll return shortly."

Mal stands, fingering the piece of paper in her pocket. Henry will be relieved. This is something the world without magic can fix.

"Mal?"

She stops, moments from vanishing away to the apothecary. "Yes, dear?"

"I know why you want to look after me."

Tilting her head, Mal crouches back down. This requires that she look into Regina's eyes. She waits in silence while Regina rests her hands on Mal's shoulders.

"You care about me." Regina meets her eyes and smiles, exhausted and innocent. Worn and wise. "You care, and I believe that. I trust it. It's easy with you."

Loving Regina for decades must make that so. "My feelings for you have not changed."

Their foreheads touch. Regina's still too warm, but Mal's the one who shivers. "I know."

Medication. Henry-

They share a breathe of silence, rushing heartbeats playing off each other in counterpoint.

"Go on," Regina insists. "Text Henry." She leans back, pulling her feet up after Mal removes her shoes. "Hurry back."

Mal chuckles at that.

Hugging a pillow, Regina smiles up at her wearily. "It's warmer with you."

"So that's the reason."

"It's better than teasing you for treating me like a child."

A sick hatchling would be wrapped up in her wings and Mal would croon to her, sharing her body heat until she healed. Holding Regina while they work out the infernal viewing contraption is this world's equivalent.

Regina shuts her eyes, her forehead furrowing. "I should go with you."

"You should not. You're lightheaded, feverish, and exhausted. I can deal with the apothecary-"

"Pharmacist."

That's the word. "Pharmacist," Mal repeats, "on my own."

"Don't pay him in gold." Regina smirks and doesn't open her eyes. "Use your card."

The stupid little slip of plastic is convenient, but doesn't feel like money. Even though she understands how computers keep track of money, exchanging stacks of gold was visceral. This feels like magic.

She send Henry messages while she waits in the queue. The women in front of her starts to scuttle away, eyes wide after she realizes who was behind her while she asked question after question.

The dwarf behind the counter shrinks back. His voice squeaks as they exchange pleasantries and Mal hands him the paper.

"For Mayor Mills?"

"Yes."

He scurries faster, like a mouse found by the sun.

 **The dwarf at the pharmacy is leery of me.** She sends to Henry, waiting for the little man in the white coat to return.

 **Dragons eat dwarves.** Henry retorts and she laughs. They do, historically. Here, she makes a point not to devour Regina's citizens.

Soup, the bread Regina can't swallow and ice cream are in her future more than dwarf, roasted or otherwise.

 **Not at the moment.**

She tips the dwarf and he gapes at her. It's the right tip, twenty-percent because he was quick, but he stares. The last woman did not tip him and Mal adds another dollar to the neat pile before she vanishes. He must be having a trying day.

Regina has to swallow two of the huge white pills, and Mal brings her cold water while Henry returns to class knowing his mother is on the way to recovery. Mal imagines his shoulders falling when the worry lifts from his face.

"Those are horrid."

Mal smiles, stroking Regina's cheek.

"Wretched."

Regina recalls a colorful analogy to the taste and Mal only smiles at her, enamored with her presence.

Lifting the remote while Regina curls into her lap, Mal remembers Emma's explanation. Genres are types of films. If people cry at the end before they're happy, it's a drama. Comedies end happier. Some of the films will be in other languages but the worlds will appear on the screen.

Regina's too tired for that. She can barely keep her eyes open as it is.

Documentaries are about true things, and Mal finds the one that makes the far corners of the world look so vivid she could touch them. The voice narrates calmly, and she strokes Regina's hair while she drifts off.

Her phone buzzes once she's two episodes in. Henry frets via the tiny screen of her phone. Regina's forehead is a little cooler. She sleeps comfortably in Mal's lap.

Mal finishes a third episode before Regina wakes again. Rolling in her lap, Regina watches Mal in silence before drawing her attention from the beauty of the screen.

"Why didn't you say anything before?"

"Say anything about what, dear?"

"About you," Regina starts, raising her hand to Mal's heart. "About this, about us,"

Us is a far heavier word than penicillin, antibiotic, or pharmacy. She doesn't know what forming it on her tongue will do or what spells she'll inadvertently cast with that power. Mal slides into waters uncharted with that tiny word.

Us carries the weight of memory, of things that couldn't be, of return and revival.

Rebirth, like flowers blooming in the desert after the rain, but this is lasting. This has already weathered a Dark Curse, a deep cave, and death.

Mal's heart returned from dust unchanged.

"I care for you," Regina whispers in the golden firelight. "I-"

Lost another love. Buried a good man too soon. Fear the future because no vengeful god will allow her any happiness.

"Mal, I'm glad you're here."

What response could she have? How can she return that sentiment with anything less than undimmed affection?

"Thank you for letting me in."

Even clouded with fever-dreams, Regina's eyes carry the weight of that. They're closer here, more vulnerable; exposed like fresh scales, not yet dry.

"I should have before."

Mal shakes her head. She sighs so it rumbles in her chest, like stones. "No dear. Now is the time we should have."


	6. Chapter 6

Mal's still here, curled up around Regina like she's part of the blanket wrapped tight around her and she feels like the only warm thing. Her head doesn't hurt anymore, but her throat aches and everything is disconnected. It's dark, but other than that Regina has no idea what time it is.

Mal's hand brushes cool against her forehead. Fever must still be high but she can't do anything about it but wait for it to break. How long has it been?

When did she see the doctor? Why is time so difficult?

The voice on the television explains that elephants can walk days through the burning desert to find a waterhole they haven't seen in a decade. She could be walking through the desert, lost in scorching sand. Mal murmurs something Regina can't hear, then she's gone. Sleep takes Regina like it's a light switch.

Everything's black.

The rustling of paper must be Mal reading something. Her eyes hurt when they're open, and her throat still throbs and everything was easier before she was awake. Why is she awake?

"What time is it?"

The TV drones majestically and she can't make out the words, but it's the same voice. David Attenborough, Mal loves him.

"Just after midnight."

"Why are you awake?" That's a logical question, not just jealousy. Mal could be sleeping.

Mal chuckles above her. "Paperwork."

"Mal-" She could spend the day doing, not doing it at night, and it's Regina's responsibility. She's not that sick.

A little lizard alternates his feet back and forth on the hot sand.

"Do you do that on hot sand?" Regina shifts, nudging Mal with her shoulder.

Laughing, Mal pats her stomach over the blanket. "Maybe on fresh lava, it's a good trick. Great thing about having four legs."

"Do you miss it?" Her brain's reeling and she blacks out for a moment. Did she fall asleep? Is this a dream? Mal was laughing. There are lions now, walking across the sand again. "Mal?"

She's here, Regina didn't need to ask.

"Yes, dear."

"Do you miss it?"

"Miss what?"

The TV's not in the desert now, birds fly over a city and Mal's voice is soft, sleep addled.

"Being a dragon."

"I am a dragon, always." Mal touches her face, holding her close. "You taught me that."

It's a sweet answer, full of promise and gratitude and Regina should say something. She sleeps, Mal's hand on her cheek.

* * *

"Daddy?" Mother never comes. When she comes she's angry. She doesn't like being woken up. Regina bothers her and mother doesn't like to be bothered.

It's not her father's voice that soothes her. This voice is female, but soft. Not mother.

"It's all right. You're safe. Open your eyes."

It's still dark. The moon doesn't even carry through her window.

Why is she shaking?

Mal's here, but Regina can't touch her without her hands trembling, fumbling. Why is her skin sweaty? Everything's slick and damp. Where is her father?

"Regina."

"Where's daddy?" She hates herself as soon as she says it. She knows where he is. He's dead. "I'm cold."

Hands stroke her face, then rub her shoulders. Soft hands. Not her mother. Mother is never soft.

"It's the fever. It makes it hard to think. You're safe."

Safe means nothing to her. She has to be good. Ween she's not, she'll be punished.

Someone hums, sings. Regina starts to pull away, but arms hold her, gentle and warm. It's an old song, unfamiliar. Not her mother, not even human.

"Shhhhh."

Then black.

* * *

"Elephants can remember watering holes they've visited over a decade before."

"You love elephants."

"I do." That's Mal, the voice behind her head and the warm body pressed against hers. She's safe.

Regina starts to roll over, but she aches when she moves. Her body's like stone. "Why?"

Mal helps her turn, hovering above her. Her hair's lit to soft gold in the dawn. "They are large and gentle. They look after each other, travel far and live a long time. They are wonderful creatures."

"Have you ever seen one?" She sits up on her elbows, and Mal shoves pillows beneath her before she loses the strength to hold herself up. "Before, in the old world."

"They live far from the Enchanted Forest." Mal pulls herself up and wraps her arms around her knees. "To the south, and the east. Weeks of flying."

"So you've seen them?"

"I've touched their ears." Mal smirks at her, cupping her hands over her own and grinning. "Their trunks. They're so curious. They weren't afraid of me." She sits up, smiling that old distant grin. "Like someone else I know."

"Someone who foolishly stormed into your castle?"

"Someone like that." Mal picks up the mug from the side of the bed. "Who needs to drink her tea."

Regina rolls her eyes, but drinking her licorice tea doesn't hurt as much as it did yesterday. "What time is it?"

"Time to worry about healing."

"Mal-"

Mal cups her cheek and shakes her head. "You didn't even know who I was last night. You need to rest, eat something. Then perhaps we can talk about the time. Maybe take a shower."

Regina shuts her eyes and sighs. "A shower?"

"You should see your hair." Mal runs her fingers through it and smirks. "You're all right. Your fever's much better."

"I don't think I can stand up."

"We'll work on it." Squeezing her hand, Mal leans in close. "I'll get you something to eat. Drink your tea. Watch the elephants. I'll be back."

"You and the elephants." Regina wraps her hands around the mug, relieved she can hold it steady. "Fine."

Mal strokes her hair once again, and leaves the bed. She pulls her robe on over her pyjamas and then she's gone. The elephants walk through the beautiful desert on the television, but her mind can't focus. She dreamt about her father, and her mother. They weren't there, but she wasn't alone.

Henry knocks on the door and those dark thoughts fade away. He rubs sleep from his eyes and grins at her. "Hey mom."

"Henry!"

He takes a step and she nearly drops her tea.

"No, stay back."

"It's okay, Mom, I won't get close." He sticks his hands in his pockets. "You look better."

"I feel better." She moves her legs to the end of the bed but she's too quick and her head spins and he moves and catches her tea.

"Not _that_ much better. You've been really sick." He hands her the before she can protest any more. "Stay in bed. Mal's here, she'll take care of you."

Studying his face, she pulls her feet back and shifts to sit up against the headboard. "She has been. Is that all right for you, having her here?"

He rolls his eyes and sighs. "It's a burden, Mom, really. I had to teach her how to make jello and share the television."

"He's a very good teacher. We made several kinds, the blue one is especially... blue." Mal holds a bowl of something warm, probably porridge. "After you eat this, you can have some. I'm going to try some because I've never eaten anything quite that color."

"It's good." Henry smiles at them both. "It kind of tastes like blue." He walks close enough to pat her leg through the sheets. "You used to make it."

'I know, you loved it."

"It's the best kind." He pats her knee again. "I'm glad you're a little better. Listen to Mal though, okay? She seems to know what she's doing."

Mal settles on the bed beside her and Henry takes a step back.

Her eyes sting looking at him and she nods, pressing her lips together before she smiles. "All right."

"See you after school, Mom. Feel better." He returns her smile, ever gentle, and heads down the corridor. "Eat your jello."

Regina wipes her tears on the sheet while Mal watches.

"He's a wonderful man."

"He is." She shakes her head because he's still so young. "He will be."

"He's right about the porridge. You need to eat. I want to try that jello."

Regina has to shake her head, chuckling as she leans closer to Mal. For a moment, she's against her shoulder, and then they're wrapped in each other, hugging tight. "You stayed."

"Of course I stayed," Mal says to her shoulder. "You should have felt how warm you were."

"I see, that's what I am to you, a warm body?"

Mal releases her and nods, eyes full of mirth. "You know how I can't resist curling up around things that are warm." Her hand touches Regina's chin. "Or precious."

It's the least romantic setting. Rumpled pyjamas, lukewarm tea and porridge cooling fast on the bedside table. Mal's hands slip easily around hers and their together. United against this stupid little disease, and the rest of the darkness, within and without.

"We should talk..."

Leaning in slowly, Mal kisses her cheek. "After you eat." When she sits back, this time her face is damp. "I'll be here."

Picking up her spoon, Regina pokes at her porridge while it settles into her stomach that Mal's made a promise Regina didn't even know she wanted. Would never have dared to ask for. Looking up, she sets aside her guilt, her fear of being a burden, of being more than anyone wants to look after. "I know."


	7. Chapter 7

"Mal?" Her voice is so soft Ma barely hears her from the kitchen. Shutting off the water, she heads for the living room. Regina made it down the stairs on her own this morning, but magic or Mal's arms are going to be needed to get her back up. The antibiotics are helping, her fever's down, and she's eating a little, but this has been hard on her body, taken much, and Regina wants to be better right now.

Which is why she's sitting on the edge of the sofa, head in her hands.

Clucking her tongue, Mal dries her hands on the towel and sets it down. "You stood up."

Regina shakes her head, which makes it worse by the way she winces.

Mal touches her shoulder before crouching down to hold her head. "You're going to be weak as a hatchling for a few days. Your modern doctor said so."

"I feel–"

"Better, I know, but your body's still fighting this off. Antibiotics are just reinforcements,"

Regina's protest dies in a whimper. "Who's been teaching you metaphors?"

"Dr. Park, she said she's had to do a lot of explaining recently to new arrivals." Mal moves to sit beside Regina on the sofa, dishes forgotten. She touches Regina's back, and then Regina leans into her, in a moment, she's against Mal's chest, snuggled in close.

"I'm so dizzy."

"I told you not to stand up."

"I stood up to get down here."

"Slowly, with me standing in front of you so I didn't have to worry on the stairs."

Regina sighs and toys with Mal's hand where it rests on her arm. "You worried?"

"Nearly continuously since you thought your office was too cold."

"Mal…"

"I know disease form the old world, and this one, this strep throat, becomes a red rash and a brutal fever."

Regina lifts her head a little so her forehead rests on Mal's neck. "Not here."

"Thank the Dark Curse for its odd favors."

Mal nuzzles her hair and Regina makes a happier little noise. "What?"

"I like that."

"Oh?"

"I like you holding me," Regina begins, and stops, stiffening in Mal's arms.

"Good."

"Good?" Regina pulls away a little, sneaking a look at Mal's face. Her head must still be spinning because her eyes won't focus right.

Mal reaches for her chin, helping her steady herself. "I'd rather keep doing it, if it's amenable to you."

Lowering her mouth to kiss Mal's fingertips, Regina smiles, stripped of her protections. "I was hoping–"

"Come here," Mal whispers, drawing her back in close. She settles Regina against her and holds her tight. "Our hopes align quite nicely then."


	8. Chapter 8

Mal's watched her do paperwork for an entire day, unceasing, without complaint or signs of weakness. Today, however, Regina makes it almost an hour before she winces, scrunching her eyebrows together.

"That's it."

"What?"

"That's enough, dear."

No-" Regina holds the paper in protest and they stared at each other, the coffee table strewn with paperwork in front of them. "I'm fine."

"Your head hurts."

"It's-"

Mal raises her eyebrows, because Regina lies terribly.

"My stomach, actually." Regina releases the paper and turns to her, meeting her eyes. "The antibiotics never settle."

Lunch was an hour ago, right before Mal took out the paperwork. Regina's absolute focus, like a hunting dragon, makes more sense. She was trying to ignore her body, as she does.

"Regina-"

"I wanted something to do." She winces, shuts her eyes, then rests her forehead on Mal's shoulder. "Elephants don't distract me as much as they do you."

Mal strokes her hair, then kisses her forehead. "I don't think they make documentaries about tax codes in small towns." She drops her arm to Regina's shoulders, then tugs her in closer. "Come here."

This time there's no protest, Regina curls into her, lies down, and then they're wrapped around each other on the sofa, Mal's hands on Regina's rebellious stomach.

"Is it tight or are you nauseated?" Nauseated is one of the side effects to be worried about according to the flat scrolls

"It's just sore." Regina mutters, snuggling closer. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Why?"

She lifts her head towards the papers, but it's half-hearted. She must hurt. "We need to finish."

"Or the all powerful state of Maine will come down on us for failing to exist." Mal shuts her eyes for a moment and focuses, warming her fingers against Regina's stomach. "Does that help?"

Regina sighs in relief, her body relaxing against Mal's chest. "I did hope you remembered that trick."

"Tell me if it's too much."

Muttering half-nonsense, Regina squirms then stills, as if finally admitting she's tired, and sore, and in spite of herself she likes being taken care of. It's only taken three days. Mal summons the remote with magic and flicks on the television, looking something more distracting than nature documentaries...

"Lily's been trying to get me to watch this show. It's in space, and it's supposed to be all complicated. There are robots."

Regina doesn't answer, not even to make fun of her for being confused by robots. Mal strokes her hair and she doesn't move. Sitting up that long, thinking, concentrating, must have been too much. As much as Regina hates to admit it, this is hard on her. Her body's fighting so hard and she barely lets it breathe.

Ships in the stars are new to her, even though some of the technology seems old. They have phones with cords and hardly anyone in Storybrooke has a phone with a cord. Lily said all of that wouldn't matter, they'd explain it. She can be immersed. Swim in this other universe of stars and ships and robots.

Regina sleeps through it, the heat on her stomach must be enough to soothe something that ached, because with Mal's hand firm on her stomach, warm with magic, she sleeps on, still and silent. The fever must have stolen much of her sleep, because now that it's gone, Regina can't seem to sleep enough, no matter how long. Her appetite's also been slow to return and Mal fusses and Henry cooks and it's still a struggle to get her to eat more than half a bowl of soup.

Maybe if she ate more the antibiotics would bother her stomach less. That idea will go over about as well as the thought that Regina should just give up on the annual expense report until she's better. Let it sit, it's only a few days. It matters not at all, because they're a fake town in the middle of a world that thinks them all stories. Storybrooke has never been visited by the auditors, never been checked by the fire marshall. It is, and is always, up to code in the most unremarkable fashion.

That's the beauty of the curse, hiding itself amongst the trees. They are, and aren't. Magic will make their report sensible, no matter when it arrives.

The teacher arrives on the spaceship, neat and powerful in her suit and Mal smirks into Regina's hair. Women in power are always irresistible, especially when she argues with the captain of the vessel.

"I don't see any elephants," Regina murmurs, half asleep against Mal's chest.

"There haven't been any animals. Robots, people, spaceships."

Chuckling, Regina rolls to look up at her. "Didn't know you like spaceships."

"Lily suggested it. It's...apparently about a different kind of hope."

She tilts her head back to the television. "I used to watch this when Henry was little. He'd fall asleep in my lap and it would come on and I'd watch, hoping he'd stay asleep until the commericals so I could take him to bed."

That sounds so warm and sweet that Mal kisses her forehead. "That sounds lovely."

"It was." Sorrow softens Regina's tone. What is it? Is it Lily? The same guilt? "Sorry."

"For what, dear?"

"You didn't-" It is Lily.

"I have her now."

Regina takes a very long breath, sighing against her, then stares up into her eyes, their mouths so close that it's nearly a kiss, this sharing of air. "And me."

"Well, you need to be warm."

"I am."

And it's not about the heat of her body, or the hand Mal hasn't moved from her stomach. This is a different warmth, a different softness, this is about rekindling an old connection that roars up in both of them as if stirred by the wind.

Regina's still sick, far too sick to kiss her, but the same promise of the intimacy of their mouths is achieved with their eyes, and even without that contact, Mal's desperate for air.

"I'm going back to work tomorrow."

"You are?"

"I need to." Regina rests her forehead against Mal's cheek. "There's so much to do."

"I'll come with you."

She chuckles. "I thought you might, and you're welcome to stay."

"Stay here?"

"Yes," Regina yawns, half-losing the offer. "Stay here, with Henry and I. He likes you."

"He likes knowing you're safe."

Shaking her head, Regina turns in her arms, getting comfortable before she falls back asleep. "He likes you, we both do, and that means you should stay."

Mal's heart rushes like wings against a storm and on the television set, the worlds of her forgotten television show begin to burn. She can empathize.


End file.
